Black Dragon. Schwarz (2)
"Grrngh…"
A low groan escaped Schwarz as his eyes fluttered open. Bright sunlight poured down on him, and he instinctively scowled against the glare. Everything looked blurred, as if his focus had completely slipped. He squeezed his eyes shut a few times, blinking hard until the haze gradually cleared and the scene before him began to take shape.
A wide wooden space. Sunlight streamed in through a large window, and the floor was thickly layered with freshly cut straw that felt as soft and yielding as a proper bed.
Why am I here?
Schwarz tilted his head at the sight. It made sense, in a way—this was the barn set aside for him on one side of the count's estate. Stretching the truth a little, it was his lair.
"Grruung…?"
If his memory served, the last thing he recalled was bringing down the manticore with Milia's help, then collapsing unconscious at her side. His injuries had been severe enough that blacking out right afterward was hardly surprising.
"Grrngh…"
He let out a low rumble and tried to push himself upright. Getting outside and figuring out the situation came first. But—
"Gwaaung?!"
A searing pain lanced through his side. He cried out and crumpled back down. Wiping the tears that had sprung to his eyes, he turned his head—and saw the bandages wrapped tightly around his body…
"Uuung…"
"…"
And there, nestled against him in a soft, fluttering nightgown, was Milia, sound asleep in his embrace.
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A soundless shriek tore through him as Schwarz shot upright as if launched. The bandaged wound in his side screamed in protest, but he clenched his teeth and endured it. After a moment the stabbing pain subsided. He exhaled a short breath and looked down at the deeply sleeping Milia.
Why on earth was she sleeping here? What had happened while he was unconscious? A glance around showed no maids or servants in sight.
"Grrung…"
She'll catch a cold sleeping like this… Thinking that, Schwarz carefully took the blanket she had been using in his teeth and drew it up over her shoulders.
"Schwarz…"
…!!
At the sound of his master's voice calling his name, he flinched and froze. Had she woken? He looked at her, but her eyes remained closed; she was only murmuring in her sleep, soft breaths rising and falling.
Schwarz let out a silent sigh and carefully settled beside her, draping one wing over her body like a second blanket. Quiet returned. Watching Milia sleep so peacefully, he found himself drifting back through old memories.
About three years ago, on a certain day…
The maids of the manor had been whispering among themselves.
"Why did the young lady choose such an ominous dragon?"
It was a well-known superstition: anyone who rode a black dragon was doomed to meet an unlucky death. Everyone who saw him said the same thing, and they all looked at him with the same eyes—eyes that regarded something one must never approach. The same eyes the people around him had worn after he lost his family.
Once he realized that, the nightmares came every night. Waking in a fit of panic became routine. The lonely hours of darkness were too terrifying to bear.
Then one day…
Milia overheard the maids' gossip. Her face twisted into an expression he had never seen before as she glared at them.
"What did you just say?"
"Ah—no, young lady, it's just that…"
"I don't want to hear it. I'll say this only once, so listen carefully."
She snapped at the flustered maid, then turned that same sharp gaze on the others who stood frozen, before folding her arms and declaring:
"If I ever hear that kind of talk again, you'd all better be ready to pack your bags and leave! I don't care about some stupid superstition, and this child is the only dragon for me!"
She spoke with such proud, unshakable certainty. It was only a short declaration, nothing grand—yet from that day on, Schwarz never had another nightmare. He no longer woke thrashing in terror. He could fall asleep without fear.
"…"
The most precious person in this entire world. The one who had boldly declared he was allowed to stay by her side. For her sake, Schwarz was ready to offer even his own life.
"Mmm…"
A soft moan broke the quiet as Milia opened her eyes.
"Grrung…"
"Schwarz…?"
When he answered with a low rumble, she seemed to think she must still be dreaming. She blinked, then pinched her own cheek.
"Ow!"
Tears sprang to her eyes at the sting. The moment she realized this was no dream, her eyes flew wide.
"Schwarz!!"
"Krrngh!"
It hadn't been that long, yet she cried out as if reuniting with family after years of separation, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Are you all right? Does anything hurt?"
"Grrrrngh…"
He nodded at her worried face and gently bumped his head against her cheek, as if to say she need not fret.
"Thank goodness… I was so scared something might happen to you…"
Her voice trailed off. Clear tears welled in her eyes.
"Grrung…"
"I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry…!! If I hadn't been so stubborn, you never would have gotten hurt…"
Convinced his injuries were her fault, Milia buried her face against his neck and began to sob, unable to hold back the tears. If one were to assign blame, Schwarz was hardly free of it either. Had he simply ignored her words and turned back, none of this would have happened—that much was undeniable.
"Grrngh…"
Knowing that, he pressed his head gently against hers and stroked her hair with slow, careful motions, as if telling her not to cry.
"What… are you trying to comfort me?"
"Grrngh."
A small laugh escaped her at his response. He nodded, affirming her guess, and she wiped the tears from her eyes, looking a little lighter.
"Thank you. I really do only have you."
"Gwaaung!!"
At her bright smile he spread his wings in answer. And then—
"So you've woken."
"Hm…"
A familiar voice sounded as two shadows fell across the barn entrance.
"Father! Mother!!"
Milia sprang up and hurried toward them. Schwarz tried to rise as well, but the man standing beside Melissa raised a hand, stopping him.
A solid, powerful build. Pale golden hair and gleaming golden eyes. A sharp, imposing presence and a firmly set mouth that made him seem as unyielding as a great boulder. The lord of the Valentine Countship, current head of House Valentine, and Milia's father—the man known as the Iron Marchgrave: Bernus Valentine.
"How is your body?"
"Grrngh…"
"Of course it can't be fine. A foolish question."
Bernus let out a short sigh as he looked at the bandages.
"I heard the story from Milia. You have my deepest thanks for saving her. If not for you, I shudder to think what might have happened."
"Grrung…"
It was only natural.
That was the meaning behind his reply, though whether Bernus understood it, Schwarz could not tell.
"First, I must apologize to you."
"Grrngh?"
Schwarz tilted his head at the unexpected words. An apology? For what? No matter how hard he thought, he could not recall Bernus ever doing anything that required one.
"I have always found you… unsettling."
"Grrngh…"
Ah. That.
A subdued rumble escaped him. Anyone who rides a black dragon meets a terrible death. Anyone with even a little knowledge of dragons had heard the tale.
"But you did not spare even your own life to save Milia. In the end, a superstition is only a superstition."
Bernus stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and met Schwarz's eyes directly.
"I am sorry, Schwarz. And I am truly grateful."
"Grrngh…"
Unable to find the right response, Schwarz made a faintly awkward sound. Bernus gave a small, wry smile and rose to his feet.
"I cannot keep an injured child talking for long. Rest well."
"I leave Milia in your care from now on as well, Schwarz."
With those words, Bernus and Melissa turned and left. Silence settled over the barn once more. Milia stared at Schwarz with a slightly dazed expression.
"I never knew Father thought of you that way."
"Grrung…"
"Well… at least he's finally seen your true worth. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"Kyau."
He nodded at her soft laugh. A moment later—
"Hey, Schwarz…"
"Kyauung?"
She came to his side in a quiet voice, sat down with a short sigh, and leaned her back against him.
"I'm going to get stronger. Strong enough that no one will ever be able to hurt you again."
"…"
Schwarz said nothing. The sincerity in her voice alone made further words unnecessary.
"Grrung…"
That's what I want to say to you.
With that thought he let out a low, amused snort, curled protectively around her, and closed his eyes.